20. Mad Men
I find it difficult to talk about Mad Men. Not because it's not good- there's rave reviews, detailed analyses and countless awards to back up its reputation- but because it's large. Spanning from 1960 to 1971, Mad Men contains absolute multitudes, capturing an America in freefall as each of its characters struggle to find some sort of foothold in a constantly shifting society. Largely set around the advertising industry in New York, Mad Men is a show that feels sort of caught between two worlds. On one level, it's got a firm grounding in reality, constantly using real history as a jumping off point to give every story beat that little bit more oomph. But then there's a part of the show that's almost trying to be set somewhere else, a version of the world that the characters try to tell themselves exists. Creator Matthew Weiner is careful to avoid romanticising too much and punishes his characters when they get too close to believing the lie. After all, no matter how sweet a fiction is, it's exactly that: a lie we tell ourselves so we can sleep all night
In many ways, Don Draper's life is built on lies, from the excuses he makes to his wife and kids to the yarns he spins to sell everything from cigarettes to suitcases, right down to the murky dishonesty of his own background. He's a fascinating character, composed of so many contradictions and just about keeping his head above water when we meet him. He's a man who has constructed a perfect, tightly controlled world, manufacturing his own identity with such a rigid belief in the lies he tells himself that he can't see that everything is falling apart around him. It feels slightly reductive to call it the story of one man's downfall, but it's no coincidence that every episode starts with that gorgeously animated prophecy where Don plummets through a blur of the fads and falsehoods he lives to sell
Not that this is exclusively Don's story either. The entire ensemble here is so rich and compelling, not just in their own plots, but in how their stories contribute to the show's broader insights on the world of the 60s and how it gives in to change. The characters are so well drawn that any of them could be singled out for celebration and I'd totally understand, but favourites for me include cold housewife Betty (and Betty's air rifle), the endlessly pathetic and ultimately tragic Lane Pryce, and Elisabeth Moss' Peggy, who has the best arc in the show as she works her way up the ranks of an uncaring and misogynistic society. Her rise intersects perfectly with Don's fall, gloriously illustrated in The Suitcase, the show's midpoint stunner and one of many standout episodes
And that's another thing I love about Mad Men: the sheer density of each individual chapter. Every hour of this show is packed with so much painstaking detail, to the point where I'd actively advise against binging it. It's such a slow-burn, where radical narrative leaps are mostly swapped out for deliberately glacial shifts that affect the larger storyline in ways that only become clear when the whole thing's done. It actually took me years to get into Mad Men for this very reason. I went into it fully ready to tear through it, only for the show's measured pacing to leave it feeling slow and uneventful. I know that might not sound like a recommendation for some, but Mad Men really is a show that rewards patience. Everything matters in this gorgeous slow burn, and it reminds the audience to savor every moment and appreciate the sheer amount of love that's gone into every frame. If you give yourself over to it and trust in the journey, you'll be greatly rewarded by some of the most richly realised drama on television
It's a jaw-dropping feat of writing, not least in how it so delicately balances its tone. The drama is slowly developed but rich with feeling, and when it hits onto an emotional beat, it absolutely devastates. And more often than not, the most affecting moments here are quiet and understated, adding another layer to the deep melancholy of the characters. I also love the way the show uses history as a grand backdrop for the more intimate feelings of isolation and disillusionment that haunt each of the characters. It's one thing to completely recreate a period down to the last details, but Mad Men succeeds because it leans on the disconnect that plagues everyone in its story, laying out this gorgeously realised world solely to emphasise how it doesn't quite fit everyone who lives in it
It's just a landmark in television, a show whose influence can be felt on most of the big prestige dramas that followed it, and although I prefer some of those shows, the enduring quality of Mad Men is absolutely undeniable. It just gets better with every passing year, ironic for a show that really mastered the use of time as a narrative device. This is a show that you can feel change with every season, as early 60s glamour gives way to late 60s disenchantment. It mimics the cultural shifts of the decade it's capturing, but pushes the envelope so much that it also captures the sea change that was happening in TV in the late 2000s. A lot has changed in 14 years, but Mad Men is a constant, and I reckon we'll still be singing its praises in 14 years' time
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